


Waking Up In Vegas

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Angst, Angst and Humor, Comedy, F/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29696625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Muggle!AU- Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married! Two parts for now, but it might turn into more ;).
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 32
Kudos: 24
Collections: RomioneCom, Ron's Chessboard Fest 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Accio_Broom, sm_jl, and adenei for beta'ing this for me :).

**[Ron]**

Ron wakes up to the strong desert sunlight assaulting his eyelids and turns onto his stomach to bury his face into his pillow. The bed is so warm and comfortable, the satin sheets enveloping him into a nourishing hug. The pillow has somehow maintained its shape and is just the right combination of cold and cozy. His back feels fine, which very much exceeds his expectations, based on how his back usually feels when he wakes up. Maybe an expensive mattress is just what he needs.

Soon enough, his real-life anxieties start to surface. _How much does this mattress cost, anyway? What about these sheets? How much extra did this room charge for the scented pillows? Am I even paying for it?_

He tentatively opens his eyes, zeroing in on a tray that lies on the floor by his bed. It's adorned with discarded chocolate-covered strawberries, two empty champagne flutes, and a bottle of whipped cream. He never eats whipped cream.

_Did I have a girl over last night?_

Ron sucks in a breath and freezes in his satin sheets. Gingerly, he turns his head to the other side of the bed, catching a whiff of the pillows he thought were scented before.

_Perfume, you idiot._

He lifts his gaze over the mountain of fluffy blankets and high-thread-count sheets, half expecting to see wispy blonde hair glossing the pillow and a hot-pink nightgown that doesn't _entirely_ cover her familiar set of curves. Maybe there would even be lipstick streaked across the pillows. Bloody hell, perhaps he was covered in lipstick, too. Do they charge extra to clean up shit like that? He wouldn't know; he doesn't stay in hotels often.

Honestly, he may have been relieved if Lavender was beside him. They dated for years, and he knows her well. Ever since they broke up, she's been not-so-subtly trying to get him back in bed. She _likes_ having sex with him, and quite frankly, he likes it too. At this point, he knows her body well. She's difficult to disappoint.

On the other hand, she may have mistaken him sleeping with her for regret about ending things, and he has no desire to set the record straight again. Las Vegas is already far enough out of his comfort zone, so Ron will do what it takes to avoid any conflict on this trip.

However, he doesn't have to worry about that because when he peers over the blankets, the girl sleeping beside him is _not_ Lavender Brown.

Instead of a hot-pink nightgown, she's wearing a black pair of mens' boxers and a bright orange Chudley Cannons T-Shirt, with the words "World's Best Coach" emblazoned across the back. He loves that shirt. It was a gift from the youth football team he's coached for years, and he never even let Lavender wear it. Not that she ever asked to, but that's beside the point.

_Who the fuck is she?_

Still, her head is buried under her pillows, effectively masking her identity. He reaches toward the pillows and gently lifts them to reveal her face, or more accurately, her hair. There's so much goddamn hair. It looks like someone has loaded a t-shirt cannon with curly brown hair and unleashed it onto the pillow beside him.

_No. It can't be..._

He wonders how he survived the night unstrangled when his companion's hair moves on its own accord like the limbs of a sentient and unpredictable willow tree. Is it as easy to anger as its owner? It begs the question — how the hell has he managed to wake up next to Hermione Jean Granger, his sister's nightmare of a Maid of Honor?

Swiftly but smoothly, he removes his blankets and rises to his feet, only to discover that he's completely starkers. He grabs the first thing he can find — a towel — and wraps it around his hips while he searches the floor for something to wear. Luckily, he's in his hotel room, and his suitcase is wide open on the floor. He exhales a sigh of relief and collapses next to it, pulling garments out one by one. He lands on a pair of inside-out khaki shorts and red short-sleeve button-down, one of his favorite shirts that Lavender would never let him wear. She always said it clashed with his hair.

When he turns the shorts right, a piece of paper floats to the ground. It must have been folded up into his pocket. Out of curiosity, he picks it up and unravels it. He has to read it twice before realization kicks in, and his jaw drops to the floor. His hand is suddenly shaky, but not enough to obscure the words 'Marriage Certificate' across the top.

It's even signed and dated. Ron B. Weasley. Hermione J. Granger. _Fuck._ This had to be some sort of a practical joke.

He looks back to the bed, and he can't ignore the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Hermione's head is still buried under the pillows, the Chudley Cannons Tee rising and falling rhythmically with her breath. Suddenly, he's extremely nervous. She'll wake up soon, and what will happen when she sees him?

She'll probably be pretty upset. Unlike Lavender, she seems easy to disappoint.

_Bloody hell._

**_x_ **

**One week earlier…**

"I'm Hermione Granger."

She extends a hand to Ron, who reluctantly shakes it. Firm handshake.

"And you are?"

"I'm Ron." She raises her eyebrows. "Ron Weasley? The bride's brother? The groom's best friend?" He tries not to be offended when she removes her hand and wipes it on her trousers. "You honestly don't know me?"

"I figured," she shrugs. "But most people introduce themselves without assuming others know who they are."

Her unfiltered judgment catches him off guard. It strikes a nerve, and he can't help but wonder why Ginny has selected _her_ as her Maid of Honor.

His instinct is to snap right back, but he fights it. He is about to embark on a ten-day international trip to celebrate his sister's wedding, and as the Best Man, he'll be working closely with Hermione and the other bridesmaids, one of them being his ex-girlfriend. It is going to be rough already.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Hermione Granger," he says as cheerfully as he can muster. He'll just have to get through this trip, and he'll never have to see her again.

Her reply is annoyingly curt. "Thanks." She takes a seat and motions for him to do the same. The gesture is subtle, but it keeps him on edge. He doesn't need _permission_ to sit down. He's tempted to keep standing simply out of spite, but on the other hand, he would like to avoid a power struggle.

He shakes his head as if doing so would reset this terrible first impression. He _wants_ to like her — she's one of Ginny's best friends — but he already feels himself building a wall.

She waves down a server, and Ron squirms at how _impatient_ she seems. _What's her rush?_ The server grumbles when he approaches, and Ron tries to send an apologetic glance his way. "I'll have an iced coffee."

The server nods then glances expectantly at Ron. "Oh erm... same, I guess.".

"No straws," adds Hermione.

"Noted," quips the server.

"Actually," says Ron, "I would like a straw."

"Straws are awful for the environment," she says when the server's out of earshot. "You don't really need them."

Ron fights the urge to roll his eyes. He's determined to keep it cool, so he takes a steadying breath and changes the subject. "We should compare itineraries for the bride and groom."

"Yes, I agree. In fact, I have put together a tentative plan for the joint stag and hen party." She slides a piece of paper across the table to him. The level of detail is horrendous. It's also laminated. She's organized, that's for sure.

"Hold on," he says. "A joint stag and hen party?"

"Yes, it's more efficient this way. You can see on page four, I've already made reservations at a hotel on The Strip, and for pretty much everything, bigger parties mean bigger discounts."

Ron's heart sinks. He has been planning a surprise stag party for Harry, and he was pretty excited about it. Harry wouldn't go for this. There's no way.

"Hermione, I think the boys would prefer a separate party." Ron was also looking forward to a night out with just the boys — Harry, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. It would be a very different experience if the girls were there too. Well, Ginny, Luna, and Demelza would be fun. Lavender? Hermione? _No thanks._

"I've already spoken to Harry, and he loves the idea."

Ron straightens up and stares back at her, for a moment forgetting to mask his hurt. "He… what?"

"Yeah, he already agreed to it."

Their conversation pauses as the waiter returns to deliver their iced coffee. Hermione scowls at Ron and rolls her eyes as he takes a long drag from his plastic straw. Maybe he should ask for a second one just to tick her off some more.

_Keep it cool, Ron._

Hermione's expression softens. "I know it must be awkward for you to spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend. Ginny told me about the breakup. She wasn't expecting you two to split before the wedding,"

Unfortunately, the Lavender thing contributes to his resistance to a joint party, but he hates that she can sense that. He hates that Ginny told her about _his_ breakup.

"Look," says Hermione, leaning closer.

He's skeptical of what she might say, but it seems like she's genuinely trying to be caring, so he leans in to listen.

"It'll be hard, but we can't let our personal issues affect this. This wedding is about Harry and Ginny. No one else."

Ron sinks dejectedly back into his chair, immediately regretting giving her the benefit of the doubt. _Our personal issues._ "What are you saying?"

"I'm _asking_ that we don't bring any unnecessary drama along. Leave it here, and focus on the bride and groom."

" _We?"_

She nods. "Yes, we. I will also leave my issues at home." _She really is infuriating_. He's going to have a chat with his sister about her choice of best friend.

"So no drama at the wedding. None." He takes another swig of his drink, raising his eyebrows at her. She scowls again at the straw.

"No drama."

"Deal." He reaches out a hand, and she takes it. Another firm handshake.

Then, something on his face catches her eye. "You've got something on your nose."

He releases her hand and rubs his nose.

She shrugs. "Must have been dirt."

He forces his lips into a smile and wonders if it looks as fake as the one she returns.

_What a nightmare._

**_x_ **

He's pulled out of his reverie by an abrupt jerking of limbs from the bed. Hermione's rhythmic breathing turns into a groan when she tugs the pillow off of her head. She slaps a hand over her eyes when the sunlight hits them, and she groans again, angrily this time. Any illusions of peacefulness are a far distant memory.

When she finally opens her eyes, it's her look of horror that alerts Ron to the fact that he never put on his khaki shorts and a red shirt. He's still hovering next to her bed in a towel, staring at her. He's suddenly very aware of how pale and freckly he is.

"Why are you—?" Eyes wide, she rises to a seat in bed, her hair billowing in every possible direction. She looks down at her body and pinches his Cannons shirt with her fingers like it's a dirty napkin. "Why am I wearing this?" She glances back at Ron and scowls. "Why am I _here?_ "

Ron opens his mouth to answer, but he is unprepared to fill her in. Like her, he has not yet processed this. Before he can explain, the towel starts to unravel from his hips. He motions to catch it, but his right hand is clutching his clothes, and his left hand is clutching a goddamn marriage certificate, so the towel unwinds and lands in a pile on the floor. When Hermione's eye line lowers, her cheeks blush. Ron can't tell if she's embarrassed, angry, or _impressed_ , but he hopes for a combination of the three.

"Morning!" He grins goofily, emulating the falsely excited tone he's become so accustomed to using around her.

It brings her gaze back to his eyes. "Ronald Weasley. What the _hell is_ going on?"


	2. Chapter 2

**[Hermione]**

Hermione tugs the pillow off of her head, groaning at the sudden beam of light from the window. The sun is too intense for the morning— based on the afternoon's unbearable heat, she swears her hotel window faces west. She covers her face and groans again, angry at having been pulled out of peaceful sleep.

She opens her eyes to find Ron standing near the bed, staring at her and wearing nothing but a towel wrapped precariously around his hips. Her cheeks blush at the sight of his bare chest. He's pale and a bit scrawny, but he wears it well. She's seen him shirtless before, just a few days ago on the pool deck, but the effect is different in the context of her hotel room.

_Did I sleep with him last night?_

"Why are you—?" She pauses, unsure how to encompass all of her confusion into one question. He's staring down at her shirt, so she follows his gaze to find she's wearing a bright orange t-shirt with the words Chudley Cannons across the front.

_Isn't that the name of the youth football team he coaches?_

"Why am I wearing this?" She glances around the room to see that it's a total mess, and the blinding light from the window indicates that it's facing east, not west. This isn't her room. Tentatively, she meets Ron's narrowed eyes. "Why am I _here?_ "

Ron simply gapes at her. Obviously, he's just as confused as she is, and she suddenly feels very exposed.

A few things happen in quick succession. She's busy trying to read the expression on his face when his towel begins to loosen around his hips and falls swiftly to the floor. He tries to catch it, but his hands are occupied — he's clutching his clothes in one and a piece of paper in the other. She doesn't notice his reaction because her eye line instinctively lowers, causing her to blush and bite her lip.

"Morning!" he says, pointedly trying to draw her attention back to his face. He's wearing that fake smile again.

"Ronald Weasley." She hopes her authoritative tone masks her self-consciousness and distracts him from her lingering gaze. "What the _hell is_ going on?"

_**x** _

**One week earlier…**

"I'm Hermione Granger."

She extends a hand to the red-head, one of Ginny's brothers. She feels like an idiot for forgetting his name, but the girl has six brothers. It's bound to happen.

Whatever his name is, his flimsy handshake indicates that he doesn't want to be here. "And you are?"

"I'm _Ron._ " He sounds angry that she doesn't know. "Ron Weasley? The bride's brother? The groom's best friend?" She raises her eyebrows in a way that hopefully looks apologetic. "You really don't know me?"

"I figured," she shrugs, hoping her nonchalance will overshadow her tone of defensiveness. "But most people introduce themselves without assuming others know who they are."

He huffs, and it hits a nerve. Admittedly, she's not great at first impressions, but he already seems determined not to like her.

She fights her urge to call him out on it. She is about to embark on a ten-day international trip to celebrate Ginny's wedding, and as the Maid of Honor, she'll be working closely with Ron and the rest of the wedding party. She wants things to remain friendly between them, even if he won't meet her halfway.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Hermione Granger," he says in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Thanks," she tells him, keeping her voice neutral. She takes a seat and motions to the empty chair across from her. He hesitates, staring at the chair as if expecting her to present a better option. After a moment, he sighs again and sits down.

_What is his problem?_

He shakes his head impatiently, like an anxious dog that would rather be anywhere else. She _wants_ him to like her, of course, but it's starting to seem like an uphill battle.

Pushing her insecurities aside, she waves down a server, and Ron squirms uncomfortably. _What now?_ The server must sense his contagious discomfort because he grumbles when he approaches. Ron looks expectantly at the server.

"I'll have an iced coffee," she says.

The server nods then glances at Ron. "Oh erm... same, I guess."

"No straws," adds Hermione. Ever since Luna showed her a video of a plastic straw stuck up a sea turtle's nose, she has felt guilty using them.

"Noted," quips the server.

"Actually," says Ron, "I would like a straw."

He looks questioningly at her when the waiter walks off, so she assumes he wants her to explain herself. "Straws are awful for the environment," she says, shrugging. "You really don't need them."

Ron just stares blankly at her. His eyes are such a soft blue shade, which makes their lack of emotion unsettling. He takes an impatient breath. She expects him to say something about straws, so she is quite surprised when he changes the subject. "We should compare itineraries for the bride and groom."

Her heart sinks. She doesn't _actually_ want to talk about straws or sea turtles, but without his acknowledgment of her explanation, her request to the waiter comes off as controlling. She's been called that before, and the memory hurts.

She decides to play along. "Yes, I agree. In fact, I have put together a tentative plan for the joint stag and hen party." She slides a piece of paper across the table to him. Hopefully, he will appreciate her attention to detail and the fact that it's even laminated if they spill their coffee. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem the type to be impressed by organization.

"Hold on," he says. "A joint stag and hen party?"

"Yes, it's more efficient this way. You can see on page four, I've already made reservations at a hotel on The Strip, and for pretty much everything, bigger parties mean bigger discounts."

"Hermione, I think the boys would prefer a separate stag party."

She anticipates his response — Harry has mentioned Ron might be planning something for the boys but could also use the help. "I've already spoken to Harry, and he loves the idea," she said in her best reassuring tone.

A flash of hurt crosses Ron's face. "He… what?"

 _Is he hoping to plan this all alone?_ "Yeah, he already agreed to it."

Their conversation pauses as the waiter returns to deliver their iced coffee. Ron pointedly takes a long drag from his plastic straw, and she tries her best not to scowl. It's not worth the power struggle, and it feels like he's trying to pick a fight.

_Keep calm, Hermione._

She wonders if he's always like this. Ginny says he's usually an amiable and caring guy. What's changed?

Then the realization hits her. She recalls a recent conversation with Ginny about wedding party drama. Evidently, she only asked Lavender to be in her wedding party because she was dating _one of her brothers._ Then they broke up, and she was worried things would be awkward and weird.

She looks back at Ron, sitting dejectedly across from her, attacking his coffee with a plastic straw. That brother _must_ be Ron. Hermione leans forward and looks him in the eye. "I know it must be awkward for you to spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend. Ginny told me about the breakup. She wasn't expecting you two to split before the wedding,"

She hopes her tone sounds caring and apologetic, but hurt fills his face again. That's probably why he's so opposed to a joint party. It must be challenging to put aside his pain and heartbreak to focus on the wedding, especially since his ex is part of the festivities. It would be tough for her too.

If only he knew the pain that she's pushing aside right now. They could bond over similar heartache. She's almost tempted to tell him but knows it would fall on deaf ears. "Look, it'll be hard, but we can't let our own personal issues affect this. This wedding is about Harry and Ginny. No one else."

Ron just scowls at her, but it doesn't hurt as much. She's starting to see it as a mask. "What are you saying?"

"I'm _asking_ that we don't bring any unnecessary drama along. Leave it here, and focus on the bride and groom."

" _We?"_

She nods. "Yes, we. I will also leave my issues at home." Hopefully, her words are enough to hint that he's not going through this alone.

"So no drama at the wedding. None." He takes another swig of his drink, raising his eyebrows at her like he's trying to draw attention to the straw. _Infuriating._

"No drama."

"Deal." He reaches out a hand, and she takes it. It's another flimsy handshake that makes his promise feel insincere, but she decides to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Then, something on his face catches her eye. "You've got something on your nose."

When he releases her hand and rubs his nose, she realizes it's one of his many freckles. They're kind of cute — like his eyes, they make him look kind.

His face turns an angry red, suggesting he doesn't feel the same. "Must have been dirt," she says, hoping to avoid pointing out an insecurity.

He smiles at her, but it looks forced. She tries to smile back.

**x**

Hermione shakes her head to detach herself from the unfortunate memory of their first meeting. Ron has pulled his towel back up over his hips and is currently backing toward the bathroom, still clutching clothes in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. _What is so important about that paper?_

"I'm going to get dressed," he splutters, followed by a string of profanity before the door shuts and locks.

Hermione groans, dropping her face into her hands to rub her temples. She has a headache, a lump in her throat, and so many questions, but Ron's apparent regret indicates that he doesn't remember much of last night either.

She wonders how much he regrets it. It would be a more straightforward question to answer if she knew what _it_ was. They both had a few too many drinks, and at some point, decided to go to bed together. It's possible that they just went to sleep, but the fact that he was naked and she's wearing _his clothes_ suggests otherwise.

The bathroom door unlocks, and Ron emerges, dressed in khaki shorts and a red button-down. There's something about a ginger man confidently wearing red that makes her smile. "So, erm, good morning. Again." He sounds uncomfortable.

Hermione's head is still pounding. She lowers it back into her hands and takes a deep breath. She feels the bed shift and knows Ron is sitting next to her.

Ron's voice is surprisingly soft when he speaks next. "Are you ok?"

She isn't expecting the question, and it catches her off guard. She hasn't thought much about how she feels; she just wants answers. "I don't know yet. How much of last night do you remember?"

Ron sighs. "Honestly? None of it." He fidgets. _Oh god, he is so uncomfortable._

She nods. "Did we have sex last night?"

His face turns crimson red, and he inhales sharply. "I don't know."

"You were naked this morning."

"Yeah," he nods. "I generally sleep naked."

"I'm wearing your clothes."

He glances down at her clothing. "Yes, you are. My favorite t-shirt, actually."

She knows she needs more time to process it all. How could this have happened? She has never had a one-night-stand; in fact, she can still count the number of people she's been with on one hand. She even has a few fingers left to spare.

Her voice is quiet when she speaks next. "Ron, I think we probably did, don't you?"

Ron nods. "Yeah, probably."

Her self-consciousness is overwhelming, and her eyes prickle with tears. The last thing she wants to do is cry in front of Ron, so she tries to mask it by covering her face with her hand. He must think she's a lunatic.

An image of Lavender Brown, Ginny's other bridesmaid, and Ron's ex-girlfriend floods her mind. Lavender and her perfect body that's always dressed in pink, her natural confidence, and her effortless charm. Hermione has seen the way she smiles at Ron and bites her lip like she's plotting how to get him into bed with her. How could Ron resist?

She wonders how many times they've slept together since breaking up and if Ron wishes it was _Lavender_ in his bed instead of her, wearing his boxers and Chudley Cannons t-shirt. The thought ignites a tinge of jealousy. Lavender is probably fantastic in bed, and selfishly, she's thankful Ron doesn't remember, so he can't compare.

Her anxieties are interrupted by his hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"Why are you sorry?" He winces when she snaps the question at him, and she internally kicks herself for not having more control over her tone.

He's looking at her with those piercing eyes, so blue that she can hardly look at them directly. At least she can't anymore, but maybe she could last night. "I bet it wasn't a good surprise, waking up next to me."

His words match her feelings, catching her off guard. He must be projecting. "What do you mean?"

He anxiously runs his hands through his hair, tugging at his orange locks until they stick straight out from his head. She's momentarily curious to know, or maybe just _remember_ if his hair feels as soft as it looks. "I'm just sorry it happened."

She lets out a breath that she didn't even know she was holding. "You are?"

"Yeah."

The confirmation of his regret hits her like a punch in the stomach. "Well, how about we pretend it never happened, then?" She rises to her feet and scours the room for her clothes, but she can't find them. Her hotel room is right down the hall, and maybe she can make it there without running into anyone. She wouldn't want to _embarrass him_ by being seen in his clothes.

"Is that what you want? You want to pretend it didn't happen?"

"Yes, of course," she responds, briskly crossing the hotel room to the door. In different circumstances, she might have been thrilled that this happened, but knowing he regrets it…

"Hermione, wait," he says hurriedly, reaching for the paper he had been clutching earlier. "We have a lot more to talk about—"

"No, Ron. We don't." She slips into the hallway, letting the door close behind her. Tears start to fall from her eyes, and she doesn't hear him call her name from inside the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was my first attempt at muggle!au and it was fun to imagine how R/HR would have reacted in this situation! I left this open-ended, because I'm considering turning it into a multi-chap if there's interest.


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